


Ricochet Down

by PurpleProsaist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, M/M, Purple Prose, Sad Ending, see the note for the complete warning, warning for suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleProsaist/pseuds/PurpleProsaist
Summary: In these moments, Sam feels not the great heat engulfing him, nor the last remaining life in his limbs.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 12





	Ricochet Down

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is technically comprised of what it is a very poetically told suicide. Suicide itself is not intended as a major theme here, but nonetheless at least one character (and potentially both, that's up to your interpretation) dies as a direct result of their own actions. 
> 
> If you feel that there's any chance that reading such a fic may potentially hurt you in any way at all, I beg you both to stay on this Earth awhile longer, and also to press the back button right now. Thank you for understanding. 
> 
> This fic kinda completely erases the beauty of Gollum's role in the end. He's not even mentioned, who knows what happened to him, lol? It's possible he fell with the ring exactly as in canon, but the plot diverges steeply at least immediately after that, so what's the point? 
> 
> If you're still interested, well I do hope you still enjoy! 💜

The reality before and below Sam is incomprehensible. He can only process it at all to see it as though he is viewing a painting, an illustration of a fictitious scene: abstract background of passionate red and orange, in places obscured by dark plates, hot light shining through the cracks. Brushstrokes splatter and swirl, glow — blind. But the main subject, there in the center, is all Sam has eyes for. 

All too realistic, all too real: Frodo begins to shrink within that canvas. 

No time left for frivolous metaphors that do injustice to the agonizing truth befallen them. There's not even time for decisions, not that Sam Gamgee would ever require any for _this_. It is abrupt. He neither recalls nor attempts to recall diving from the precipice, simply follows after his beloved with arms outstretched. It's effortless for more than mere gravity. 

Plummeting, the lock of their eyes is desperate finality. 

This shall not be written. It shall not be told. The melody flashing through Frodo's eyes in this singular suspended moment, is for Sam's ears only. It is a full and resonant symphony all at once, twined with poignant themes of great love, and of great grief. Sam is falling for Frodo right up to their very end; and at once soaring, blessed with such a sacred knowledge as this final light. 

Frodo breaks the surface only seconds before Sam. In these moments, Sam feels not the great heat engulfing him, nor the last remaining life in his limbs. Sam only feels Frodo's scream. 

Dark hair set ablaze, in a golden fury that licks hungrily down towards his scalp. Fire closes about his thin chest. Torment skews his face, his wild, open eyes still locked on Sam and brimming with regret. But Frodo's arms are open too, reaching upwards, needing Sam, and Sam is overcome in turn with the singular need to simply be _there_. To hold him and make him feel the infinite breadth of his love for him. A single word on Sam's mind: _closer_. And alongside it uncountable sentiments inarticulable; memories, hopes, the gravity of every emotion he had ever felt. 

The burning. 

Physical body weightless amidst the anguish, he exerts all his mental power into making his final thought one of love rather than one of pain — one of and for Frodo, simply for that naught else will do. Sam cannot discern — will never know — whether or not they manage their final embrace, whether his arms have solidly locked about Frodo before all their flesh and all their bones are already molten. 

Fully liquid is the fate of those who save the world, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee: blending together, dissolving into one another. Solid and whole is their fate, now, as rock, ever-cooling, lifeless yet wise to these echoes of the present past. The most mellifluous theme of their song, once silent, but never unsung; love that ricochets down the coming ages.

**Author's Note:**

> This scene was something I'd honestly feared might actually happen (although it would have been far far better told if so; I'm just having my fun) when I first read the books. Something I was on the edge of my seat for just praying it would not become true, that very first time I'd ever encountered LotR at all. I do find the actual ending to be far more gorgeous, but nonetheless this is a scene I've been hoping to just explore the emotions of ever since the first time I ever read this series. 
> 
> I mean, after throwing himself into the river like that? Certain to die and terrified of water? What else was I supposed to fear when this part came around? I read the actual scene _so_ fast, and multiple times, lol. 
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading! I'd love to hear any thoughts you may have to spare! :)


End file.
